Impatient

Even K- has gotten antsy with the wait. He walks in the door, kicks off his boots, and starts in with the "Are you ever going to have that baby?". I am not due until Monday, and I know that on average, first babies go until 41 weeks, but the wait is loooooonnnnng.

My nesting urges that came and went are definitely over. All I want to do is sleep and eat. I am tired of cooking. I am tired of K-'s outrageously picky eating habits.

I managed to busy myself with reorganizing my cloth diaper stash. I changed my mind on a couple of them and decided to sell them on Craigslist and buy the ones I really want. I figure, after waiting all these years for my baby, I will buy whatever fancy diapers I want, regardless of price. Paying $25+ for a diaper may not be economical, but I don't care. They are just so darn cute, and 40 cloth diapers is definitely better for my conscience than 3,000 disposables.
So, for better or worse, I just began what will likely be a long relationship with Kellyscloset.com.
Considering I buy three different kinds of non-clay litter for my cats, I guess I can splurge on spendy clothies too.

At my appointment yesterday I was barely 2 cm dilated. More like a tight 1.5. I'm 60% effaced and around a -2 station. I pretty much never have any contractions, or even Braxton Hicks ones lately. They told me while I have lots of time, I should mentally prepare for an induction the first week of March, if things do not progress. I did not have my regular doctor, since she was all booked up. The doctor I did have asked me if I had cervical surgery. Apparently, I have a band of scar tissue around my cervix, and she thinks it might interfere with proper dilation. This was news to me. While my cervix has always been cranked to one side and a little uncooperative during exams, no one has said much about it.
I admit this worries me a wee bit. I know there is nothing wrong with having a c-section, but I really want things to work out so I can have a vaginal birth. Especially after all these years of being told my pelvis is extremely narrow. My stubborn side comes out and all I want to do is prove everyone wrong by delivering the traditional way.

It is over 20 degrees F today, so I think I'll go hike around in the uneven snow now. I may not be able to work up a single contraction, but at least I can get some much needed exercise.

Ants In My Pants!

37 Weeks.

I am SO impatient and have been for quite some time.
It is not that I wanted to go into labor early, but rather wanted my due date to hurry up and get here.
My to do list is nearly complete. The only things I have left that I want to get done are out of my control. I cannot do our taxes until I have all the documents and the U.S. Department of Education sure takes their merry time. I want to get my photos printed and albums organized, but the place I want to use has not had its grand opening yet. They have only been working on the store front for about three years. Sheesh. And I definitely need my photos finished now because I am the type to put that stuff off for years. Plus, I know myself and K-. While we would never actually pull out picture albums of our baby and torture people with them, we will no doubt manage to take thousands of pictures and I would like to be caught up with the other pics before the memory card becomes monopolized.
So, I have nothing to do. Every drawer and closet is organized and reorganized. Bags are packed, clothes are washed, books are read. We have a pediatrician. My stockpile is complete.
My only preoccupation left has been trying to acclimate my cats to a new type of litter.

I am antsy, agitated, easily irritated, and uncomfortable. As of last week, I was dilated one centimeter and barely effaced. I just want the time to get here now. I need to have a live baby home with me. I need to let out a little of my pent up breath. I still cannot take anything out of its box for fear something may happen. I don't have valid receipts for most of it anyway, but I still can't open it all. I always have the idea in the back of my head that it would be easier to sell if it is still in the box. Pessimistic I know, but the thought of going through a tragedy at all, and then sitting in an apartment filled with baby stuff mocking me is horrifying.

Tick tock tick tock.....

One Little Project

"Nursery" decor!
We do not have a nursery. We have a corner of our our bedroom. Luckily it is a long bedroom, and we would have had the crib in there for quite some time even if we did have a second bedroom.

Have I mentioned K- and I both hate boy themed nursery stuff?
Boyish baby stuff has two themes to choose from: automotive/airplane and sports.
We live 10 blocks from downtown. And 30 blocks from a large international airport. There are 3.4 million people in this 10 mile radius. The last thing either of us wants to see when we enter our sanctuary of an apartment is more cars and planes.
And the sports theme really sticks in my craw. Babies don't play sports. They don't watch sports. None of the boys in my family ever played sports, although all of us girls did.
K- dislikes all televised sports.

So I went with a damask printed crib sheet and flitty little birds as baby decor. Yes, that is some pink you see. Use of color for baby gender differentiation did not come about until the 1960s. And it did not become common until the 90s. So, instead of decorating in something that made me cringe, I crafted some easy, silly wall art myself.
The only things I had to buy were the canvases. I already had the paint, fabric, and buttons sitting around.

Been A While

I have been lacking in internet time lately. Well, that's not true. I have been lacking in interactive internet time.

I spent three weeks groaning on the couch dealing with kidney stones. After the first week, when the pain left my kidney, moved down, and left, I thought I was done. I was wrong. The next one was even worse.
So I have not been on the computer much and my only internet time was spent on my cellphone. I have about 400 things in my Google Reader to get through.

The greatest thing about being in horrible pain without meds or an end in sight, is that feeling normal afterward feels fantastic.

I am also no longer nervous about childbirth. No matter how painful hard labor and giving birth can be, it does not last for three weeks. If a baby were stuck in my birth canal, and causing horrific pain and duress, they would not send me home to wait it out for a few weeks and see if everything works itself out. I find comfort in that.

Like Neverending PMS....

....minus the tampons and what ifs.

Maybe it is hormones.
Maybe it is the transition to Winter and lack of daylight.
Maybe the never ending cloud cover. Lack of funds. Too much going on. Too little going on. I don't know.

I am just so sad and lonely and don't know why. I hate not understanding it. If things were truly sucky, then I could understand. But really, life is only a little bit sucky right now. There is certainly enough good happening to balance the bad. At least in my mind.
This entire year has been bitter sweet. On paper it looks horrible. K- and I both tend to forget all the drama of 2009, mostly because it feels like it all happened a million years ago. And also because things that devastate many people, tend to roll off our backs. Especially, of course, when we have something good in the here and now to focus on.

I am not depressed, or really sad even, but I seem to be in a constant state of melancholy. Maybe this is just my normal time to be weepy and I forgot.
I am very lonely, both in real life and in my online life.
I feel as though I have lost some friends as well as part of myself. Part of my infertile self I guess. It is not like I was fond of my infertile self, but it was still ME. To have that part taken away is still disheartening. Slap a "pregnant" label on me and I am suddenly "other". An untouchable. (Or overly touchable for strangers with no boundaries, but that is another subject for another day.)
There was a certain level of camaraderie that is now gone.
Theoretically, there is another side I now belong on, but I don't know where to find it. Or more accurately, I don't know how to enter it. I am unfamiliar with the language they speak there.

We were at another wedding recently. Once again, I sat alone in the corner watching everyone drinking and dancing. I have always been a bit of a wallflower, however, it seemed more significant this time. My tolerance for obnoxious people has gotten lower.
I took part in an awkward conversation with the bride's grandmother. My own grandmother pointed to my mother and said she was going to be a grandma. The bride's grandma looks at me and says "Yes, I heard about that. Let's hope it doesn't die."
I just sat there sort of speechless for a moment.
"Um...yeah...hopefully."
She then launched into a story about miscarriages and subsequent pregnancies. I eventually excused myself to the restroom. Despite it being strange, I sort of appreciated her blunt recognition that bad things not only happen, but frequently and often times to good people.

***
I am almost there. Twelve more weeks. The homestretch. I am getting close to the grand prize. That thing I longed for, for so long, is becoming a reality. I have a lot to do before it happens, but I am not too worried.
And because of this, I cannot for the life of me, figure out my problem. I am excited, yet gloomy.
I hope it is something that can be chalked up to hormones and a lack of exercise.
I imagine some fresh air and sunshine would help. Some walking. Unfortunately most simple tasks have me doubled over with crampy Braxton Hicks and a strange leakage I would prefer not to discuss. Having to spend your time sitting and lying around, when you're already weepy is difficult. I generally love this time of year, but I find myself wishing I could fast-forward to late January.

I want to meet this person who has so much control over my body and emotions.